


i am a wave destined to converge on your shore

by heartthrobholtzy



Series: Speechless Scientists [2]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, It got angsty, Nothing bad should ever happen to my buttercups, Scientist girlfriends, Smut, i mean I'm scared, its ok nothing life-threatening, just a scare, just stupid dumb dorks who love each other, oh no, you guys don't deserve this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:44:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7620643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartthrobholtzy/pseuds/heartthrobholtzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you stop being kissing colleagues and start being scientist girlfriends?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Since that first kiss in the Astral Projection Chamber/Holtzmann's nap closet, Erin had been finding reasons to go into the second floor lab at least half a dozen times a day. Offering a cup of tea, checking on her progress, seeing what that totally routine bang was.

Unless Holtzmann was physically incapacitated - holding a blowtorch, or working from inside a large metal drum that Erin didn't know the purpose of, or holding wires with her mouth - she would kiss Erin softly in greeting. Something about the casual way Holtz touched her made her melt. It kept bringing her back upstairs.

“Tomorrow night.” Holtz was up to her elbows in a contraption that looked a lot like it had teeth.  
“Tomorrow night what?” Erin had asked, caught off guard.  
“Date. Unless you want to just be kissing colleagues?” Holtz was casual, like she didn't mind either way, but she must mind because she was asking Erin out.  
“Tomorrow.” Erin said thoughtfully. “Do I need, um… Safety equipment?” Holtz burst out laughing.  
“I normally make a girl buy me dinner first!” Erin flushed crimson.  
“I meant, um, we’re not, uh, doing anything dangerous?” she explained. Holtzmann looked delighted.  
“No, Erin, nothing dangerous. Though... What's your blood type? Kidding, kidding. It's a date. Say seven.”


	2. Chapter 2

Erin was wearing a dress, and she had on a pair of high heels that could be reasonably described as ‘not fun’. She'd stayed away from Holtzmann's lab all afternoon, too nervous to see her. She'd gone home at five on the dot to change. She got back to the firehouse, relieved that Abby and Patty seemed to have gone for the evening.   
“I was waiting for you to get back.” she heard from above her, and then Holtzmann descended the fireman’s pole. She twirled her whole body around the pole three times on the way down. Erin couldn't help but smile, transfixed.   
“You look nice.” Erin smiled. And it was true. Holtzmann was wearing a navy silk jumpsuit, with a shiny, curved steel belt that fit so perfectly that she must have made it herself. She was wearing silver-tipped brogues and her shiniest silver safety goggles were perched on her head, pushing just a little tuft of blonde curls forward onto her forehead. She looked exactly like herself, just… Fancier. Erin felt like a gawky teenager dressed up for junior prom in her dress and heels.

Holtzmann smiled in response to the compliment.   
“You ready to go, hot stuff?” 

They walked two blocks east, heading towards the outskirts of the city. Erin felt shy, and self-conscious. She was surprised when Holtzmann steered her into an alley.  
“Don't say I don't take you anywhere nice. Wait here.” Erin obediently stood still while Holtz walked into the softly illuminated back door of one of the commercial buildings. Erin jiggled uncomfortably in her heels. This wasn't exactly what she had in mind. Just a moment later, Holtzmann emerged. She was walking backwards and yelling cheerfully.  
“Next time, I promise! Next time.” She turned to Erin, smiled her dazzling smile and lifted a brown paper bag triumphantly in the air. “I got us dinner.”  
“What's ‘next time’?” Erin asked as they fell in step again. Holtz grimaced.  
“Gino’s a big fan. You know, saved the city and all that? Would love a photo for his wall.” Erin laughed. She didn't think she'd ever get used to being recognised.  
“So where are we going?” she asked.  
“Up there.” Holtz pointed at the top of a residential building across the street.

Erin had no idea why trespassing on private property was Holtz’s idea of ‘nothing dangerous’, but she felt like she shouldn't have been surprised. At the top of the fire escape, they had to climb over a low wall. Holtzmann went first, then held onto Erin's waist and helped her hop down. They were standing very close together in the dark.   
“You'd best just… Stay there for a minute. I'll get the lights.” Erin could hear Holtzmann's steps in the dark, and the loud clunk of a stiff light switch. Immediately, all around the edge of the roof, tiny golden lightbulbs began to flicker into life. Honeysuckle grew in long tendrils around the walls, it's tiny white flowers luminous in the night. 

There was a plaid square picnic blanket in one corner. Next to it stood a blue cooler, with two plates, two glasses and a plastic beer cup on top. Holtz inclined her head rakishly.   
“Shall we?”

Erin was stunned it was all so… Romantic.   
“Do we need to worry about getting caught?” Holtz shook her head. Erin sat down.  
“This is… Magical. Thank you.” Holtz pulled a chilled bottle out of the cooler and poured two glasses.   
“Ok, so what's for dinner. You've got crostini, olives, garlic bread, some kind of pasta, chicken parm and this weird thing with eggplant I like.” She sounded breathless and excited. “I got their fanciest tasting menu thing.”  
“Wow, Holtz. This is too much.”  
“If you're lucky, I'll feed you leftovers for breakfast.”


	3. Chapter 3

Holtz untidily packed away the leftovers and crockery into the paper bag, then poured herself another drink.  
“So…. Gilbert… What have you been doing… With your whole life?” she drawled. Erin felt hot under her steady gaze. She told her about finding Abby and high school, MIT together, and then Princeton, then Colombia.  
“I feel like I've worked my entire life for the scientific respect and prestige, and it never occurred to me that it would feel so much better to have the city lit up for us, you know?” Erin explained.  
“That was cool. Do you think they'll remember us in a year?” They both laughed.  
“Probably not.”

Holtzmann reluctantly went through her litany of qualifications. Stanford, Stoneybrook, then finally the Kenneth P. Higgins Institute Of Science. It was sort of a ritual with other PhD’s, almost like sharing your pedigree. Holtzmann was aware that her pedigree had gotten less and less prestigious with every additional move. Holtz glossed over how she'd ended up at a dump like KPH. It didn't seem like first date material. 

Erin felt tingly and nervous. It was silly, really. It wasn't like she hadn't kissed Holtz before. Holtz didn't seem nervous. She turned and lay her head on Erin's lap in one smooth move, grinning up at her.  
“What a ding-a-ling.” She said, catapulting herself back upright. She searched for a few moments. “Gotcha!” she said, holding the unused beer cup aloft. Holtzmann took her phone from her pocket, tapped the screen a few times and then put it in the cup. Soft music immediately began to play. Holtz reclined back on to Erin's lap.  
“..low-tech, huh?” Erin smiled, her fingers irresistibly drawn to the small curl in front of Holtzmann's left ear.  
“Acoustic amplification results in better sound quality, especially for a small audience. I compared all the major cup brands, and this was the best one.”  
Erin caressed Holtzmann's face with the tips of her fingers.  
“Is there anything you don't do well?”  
“I…” Holtzmann said in her low, serious voice. “..am a terrible cook.” Both women burst out laughing. Erin couldn't stop. All the bangs and the dancing and the fires and the dropping things in the lab… She could imagine that Holtz was a terrible cook. Every time she thought she was done laughing, she would start again. Holtz just lay on her lap, smiling, until Erin eventually stopped laughing.

“It's starting to get cold.” Erin eventually said. The cold was really getting to her, but she wasn't ready to leave yet. “I should have brought a jacket.”  
“There's a bar on the ground floor if you want a drink. Or, uh…” Holtz looked briefly embarrassed. “Or, er, my place is just downstairs.”  
“This is YOUR roof?” Erin asked, incredulous. “Then why did we come up the fire escape?!” Holtz grinned.  
“Fun.”


	4. Chapter 4

Holtzmann's apartment is tiny. It's one room, and with a bed at one end and a desk at the other. The desk is piled high with books and papers that don't quite conceal the scorch mark on the wall behind it. There are two doors on the opposite wall, presumably leading to a kitchen and a bathroom.  
“Let me just deal with…” Holtz points at the paper bag “This.” She disappears into one of the doorways. 

Erin folds the picnic blanket she'd carried down from the roof neatly on the end of Holtzmann’s bed. She looks around, feeling self conscious. Suddenly there's music playing. Something synthy and bouncy that Erin doesn't recognise. Holtzmann is dancing her way out of the kitchen dramatically. Erin laughs, the awkwardness gone, and they're dancing together, Holtz shimmying around Erin while she moves her hips; Holtz is breathless in Erin's ear, then they're kissing, then they're lying on Holtzmann's bed.

Erin's dress is pushed up to her thighs, her shoes discarded on the floor. Holtzmann's jumpsuit is open to the waist, and Erin is kissing her furiously and scrabbling at her curved steel belt. It doesn't open at the front. There's no catch at the back.  
“Holtzmann” Erin says in frustration. “Did you _weld_ this on to your body.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Safety precaution.” Holtzmann said matter-of-factly. Her cheeks were pink and she was out of breath. “So I wouldn't be tempted to… Uh.. Pressure you by taking off my pants.”  
“What if I wanted to take your pants off?”  
“That possibility hadn't entered in to my calculations.”  
“This was a _date,_ Holtz.” Flustered and frustrated, Erin leans back on Holtzmann's bed.

Holtz rolls over so she's facing Erin. She leans rakishly on her elbow and cocks an eyebrow.  
“How about helping me out with a pair of boltcutters?”

Erin was stood in Holtzmann's apartment, trying to wedge the teeth of a huge pair of boltcutters into the curve of Holtz's waist without cutting her jumpsuit or hurting her. It was about as unromantic as it was possible to get.  
“So I didn't need safety equipment, but you did?”  
“Technically, it was for your safety. I didn't want to startle you.” Holtz winked her incorrigible wink.  
“How were you going to pee? Or sleep?”  
“Excellent points, Dr. Gilbert.”  
“Stay still.” Erin finally got the boltcutters into position. She squeezed with all her might. A moment later, Holtz shimmied out of the beautifully curved belt and put it on her desk.  
“Neat. Remind me to put a fastening on this.”  
“It was cute. Until I had to cut you out of it.”  
“Seriously? You don't get even a little bit of a thrill from that?!”  
“Not everyone finds destroying things as arousing as you do, Holtz.” There was a beat while Holtzmann seemed to consider this.  
“Still want to take my pants off?”

Jillian Holtzmann without clothes on was enough to make Erin's breath catch in her throat. Wearing just her goggles and a pair of pineapple-print boxers, she reclined on her bed.

“You're staring, Gilbert.” Erin gulped.  
“Yep.”  
“This is why I took safety measures.”


	6. Chapter 6

Erin wanted to touch every inch of Holtz, but she felt scared, unsure of herself. She caressed her from fingertip to the nape of her neck. Feeling Holtz tremble beneath her touch, Erin kissed her neck, her prominent collarbones, her breasts, her ribs. Holtz, skin flushed, thrust her hands into Erin's hair, alternately caressing her scalp and gently pulling her hair. Erin kissed Holtz’s stomach and hips, and down her thigh, her calf, her ankle, then back up the other leg. Holtzmann was panting as she pulled away.

Erin slipped her dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. 

An hour later, Holtz was lying with her head on Erin's chest. "I guess I should call you Jillian now, huh?” Erin asked. Holtz shook her head.  
“Unless you're talking about Jilling Off, which is funny enough that I'll allow it.” Erin rolled her eyes and gently tapped her on the arm in reproach. “You could call me your girlfriend, though.” Holtz continued.  
“It's only been one date. And I had to cut you out of a self-imposed iron maiden.”  
“It was a pretty good date, though.”


	7. Chapter 7

Erin was woken in the middle of the night, disturbed by the sounds of people spilling out on to the street from the bar a few stories below. Her limbs were still tangled with Holtzmann's, and her heart felt full. She kissed the sleeping blonde and rolled over. An arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer.  
“I like to snuggle.” the sleeping Holtz muttered in her ear. Erin fell asleep again within moments.

“What's your plan for the day?” Holtz asked almost as soon as Erin woke up. She was sitting up in bed, sketching something on her tablet.  
“Good morning to you, too” Erin grumped, sleepily. “Uhh… Home I guess?” Erin stretched. Her limbs ached deliciously. “Hot shower. Breakfast.” Holtz put down her tablet and leaned over to kiss Erin's neck.  
“Good morning” she said, running her hand down Erin's side and slipping her hand between her legs, grinning wolfishly. “Would taking you out for breakfast count as our second date?” She twitched her fingers, and Erin moaned.  
“Probably. But first…” she pulled Holtz closer.

Wearing yesterday's dress and one of Holtzmann's leather jackets, Erin was ready to go.  
“Where do you want to go to breakfast? Holtz asked, doing up the mother of pearl buttons on her yellow cowboy shirt. “There's a patisserie on the corner, or…”  
“I know somewhere that does excellent eggs.” Erin said, smiling, and she led the way out of Holtz apartment.

Holtz hailed a cab, and Erin gave an address in midtown to the driver. When the two women disembarked in front of a smart residential building, Holtzmann looked amused.  
“Not even waiting for our third date to drag me back to your apartment, Gilbert?” Holtzmann drawled, smirking in mock-reproach. Erin flushed and tried to look disapproving.


	8. Chapter 8

Erin's apartment was small but perfectly formed. It had an elegant combined kitchen and living space, and a bedroom with a spacious closet. The walls were painted eggshell, and it was light and airy and dull as ditchwater. It looked like it belonged in a catalogue. Unlike Holtzmann's unruly collection of posters, sketches, and photos of female scientists, Erin's walls were bare except for her framed degrees. Holtzmann kicked off her combat boots, threw her coat over a chair and began rolling up her sleeves while looking around.

Erin tried not to notice how much more cozy and lived in her apartment looked with Holtz's stuff in it. She cleared her throat and started to make breakfast. 

Coddled eggs were kind of Erin's Thing. She'd picked up a pair of antique ceramic egg coddlers from a flea market in a fit of whimsy her freshman year of college, and she'd made coddled eggs - brain food and comfort food - for breakfast for herself and Abby all through the Massachusetts winters, and when they had exams, when their male faculty advisors had told them not to bother with physics because they were just going to forget it all when they had babies. For Erin, there would always be something fierce and precious about the memories of two young women eating a simple breakfast of eggs and toast together ahead of filing determinedly into a lecture hall full of young men who would carelessly talk over them if they got a chance. They'd made sure to look after themselves and each other, because no one else was going to.

Besides, Erin was not a natural cook, and coddled eggs were easy. 

“Do you want to go to a farmers’ market?” Holtz blurted. She was sat at the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the dining area, one foot on the chair next to her, watching as Erin lined up bread in the toaster and filled a pan with water.  
“...do _you_ want to go to a farmers market?” Erin asked, struggling to picture Holtzmann in her paint-covered overalls caressing a tomato.  
“Not really. But my research suggested that you might like to.” Holtz sounded relaxed, almost bored. Erin neatly cracked an egg into the small ceramic egg coddler.  
“Research on what?”  
“Lesbianism.” said Holtzmann's matter of factly. Erin accidentally smashed an egg on the kitchen counter.  
“But… I mean…. I assumed… I thought you were…”  
“Queer as they come?” Holtz finished for her, smiling broadly. “Yeah. But not real relationshippy. Thought I'd check out the conventions. That was a weird Google search.” Erin busied herself cleaning up the smashed egg. She glanced at Jillian, who was looking quizzically at her.  
“I like farmers markets.” Erin confessed. “Everybody does. But I can't see you getting excited about organic produce. Why don't we just try and do things that seem like fun?” Holtzmann leaned forward solemnly.  
“In which case..." The blonde squinted up at her questioningly "...how do you feel about monster trucks?” Erin narrowly avoided dropping another egg.


	9. Chapter 9

After breakfast, Erin wanted to shower. She'd meant on her own, but within minutes Holtz is teasing her with blasts of too-cold water alternated with warm kisses. Erin's phone started ringing with the emergency ringtone. She runs for it instinctively, trailing water everywhere. It's Abby.  
“Call just came in, multiple active T3’s, we need to move out ASAP. You pick up Patty, Holtzmann isn't at the lab for once, so I'll swing by her apartment…”  
“NO!” Erin yells unthinkingly. She curses herself. “I'm… I'm at a… Um, a farmers market near Holtzmann's apartment…” Erin is cringing at every ridiculous word out of her mouth. “I'll bring her in… I mean, I'll see if she's there. At her apartment.” Abby cheerfully agrees. Erin hung up the phone and put her fists against her eyes. She doesn't hear Holtzmann come up behind her.  
“Ghosts to bust. Let's move.” she says into Erin's neck in a way that makes Erin want to stay exactly still. 

Erin checks twice before they leave that she isn't accidentally wearing Holtzmann's shirt or something. Satisfied, she grabs a jacket and the women head out to the firehouse.

Arriving together made Erin feel self conscious, like Holtzmann's warm hands had left prints all over her body. Actually, she was pretty sure that Holtz _had_ left bite marks somewhere around her left ribs, but she had no intention of showing those to anyone.

“Holtzmann! You went home! On a weekend! This is great!” was Abby's exuberant greeting. Patty walked in right behind her and high-fived Holtz.  
“I am so glad you got out of this firehouse, baby. Place will make you even crazier.”  
Erin pulled the zipper on her coveralls up.  
“Are we ready to go, ladies?” 

Erin sat in the back of the hearse, feeling nauseous with anxiety about the others finding out what she and Holtzmann had been doing all weekend, but barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. Holtz was driving, cackling, talking, dancing in her seat, excited to bust some ghosts.

Abby read aloud the report, filling them all in. Patty tells them that though she didn't have time to check the exact location, the building is near somewhere there was a fire that killed five stablehands over a hundred years ago.  
“So we need to BE CAREFUL in there. There could be some seriously crunchy vengeful shit.”

“Patty wasn't wrong” Erin muttered to Abby “but she was definitely not right either.”  
What had used to be the stables of a large house was now the restrooms of an art gallery. The walls and doors of the stalls banged and shuddered with the sound of hoofbeats and frantic snorting. Erin held her proton gun in front of her, trying not to panic at what felt and sounded like a supernatural earthquake.  
“Patty, how many horses would a house this size have?!” Abby hissed above the noise.  
“Sixteen at least. Maybe twenty. Hard to say.” The historian sounded breathless. “Teams of two, usual protocol?” Everyone nodded. Holtzmann wordlessly handed Erin a containment unit. Abby and Erin went left. They moved quietly. Erin put her shoulder to the rattling, thundering door. She grabbed the handle and then looked at Abby for confirmation. Abby nodded, brandishing her proton gun. Erin wrenched open the door. A spectral horse towered over her, rearing up in panic. It's eyes glowed blue, steam poured from its nostrils and ectoplasm collected in the folds of its mouth. Abby fired her proton gun, Erin activated the containment unit. Within seconds, the vaporous horse was sucked into the canister, leaving nothing in the stall but a shattered toilet and broken pipes that spewed toilet water. 

Abby and Erin breathed deeply, nodded to each other and moved on to the next stall.

Patty and Holtzmann were working their way down the line of bathroom stalls on the other side. Erin could hear Holtz’s bursts of maniacal laughter and cries of “take that, Twilight Sparkle!” Erin felt too out of breath to celebrate. 

Both teams reached their last stall at the same time. Erin put her shoulder against the door and looked at Abby. The was a yell of surprise behind her and Erin jerked around, panicked, to see Holtzmann had slipped to one knee in the ever-growing puddle of water. She was grinning wickedly, firing her proton gun up at the towering ghostly horse as it was sucked into oblivion. 

At that second there was a crash, a splintering of wood, and pain. Someone very far away screamed her name.


	10. Chapter 10

The ghostly horse in the last stall on the left hand side of what was now a ruined bathroom was twice the size of any of the others, and it was furious rather than simply terrified. Jillian heard the crash, and before she'd even realised it was Erin that was hurt she was screaming her name. She turned her gun on the enormous spectre, but it reared up on its hind legs, seemingly unperturbed by the high velocity RF discharge. The horse pawed at the air, snorting steam, about to come crashing down on top of Holtzmann. She was powerless to stop it, still screaming for Erin, the world felt too fast, she couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't move her hands to turn up her proton pack, couldn't even bring her hands up to protect her face from the powerful hooves about to rain down on her.

Abby and Patty’s proton beams hit the horse at the exact same time, tangling the beast in ropes of orange light that pulled it towards the tiny vortex of the containment unit.

Jillian didn't feel relieved at her rescue, panic overwhelmed her as she stumbled forward to Erin's crumpled form.  
“Gilbert, Gilbert, Erin, please… Erin, please… Gilbert..” she sobbed. She felt the same as she had the moment she'd seen Erin dive into the portal to save Abby; breathless, paralysed by fear, her heart beating so loud it was all she could hear, her tongue coated with the metallic taste of fear.

Erin opens her eyes, still seeing stars, her ears ringing, her head throbbing. Someone was screaming. _Holtz._ Holtz was screaming. Erin sits up, looking round in panic for Holtzmann. Suddenly Holtz is clinging to her, sobbing. Erin's arms go around the engineer automatically.  
“She's ok, Holtzmann, she's ok.” Patty is patting the sobbing Holtzmann's back. “She's ok.”  
“What… What happened?” Erin asked looking from Patty to Abby, her neck stiff and protesting.  
“You got kicked by a ghost horse.” Abby answers. “Nothing too bad, you were only down a few seconds. And then…” She looked worriedly at Holtz, who was sniffling into Erin's shoulder, her body no longer wracked by sobs.  
“I'm ok, Holtz. Just a head bump. Are you ok? You're not hurt are you?” Holtzmann shook her head ‘no’.  
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to… I just…” Holtz began crying again.  
“Everybody is ok. Why don't we try and get you guys into the car?” Patty says, not waiting for an answer before tugging Holtz to her feet and pulling her into her arms. “It's ok, baby. Come on.” Holtz allowed herself to be steered away through the water and debris.

“Can you walk?” Abby asked. Erin nodded and hauled herself to her feet, pausing briefly while the world swam. She reholstered her proton gun, and winced as the movement hurt her aching neck. She bent down to pick up the containment unit.  
“Jesus Christ, Erin. Let me do that.” Abby scolded. Erin wordlessly held out the metal tube. “I've never seen her like this before.” Abby sounded worried. Erin was still reeling from the shock of the last five minutes, and tried to be comforting.  
“I'm sure she'll be fine, Abby.”  
“Maybe she's just tired. She doesn't sleep well at home, and she wasn't at the firehouse last night.” Erin remembered Holtz clinging to her last night, deeply asleep, and felt her face flame. “You don't look so great. Let's get you in the car.” Abby picked her way across the room, and Erin obediently followed her.

Jillian was sat in the back seat of the hearse, while Patty stood near the open door. She strode straight up to Erin, grabbed her face, jarring her neck. Erin thought for a moment she was about to be castigated for upsetting Holtz so badly.  
“Look at the light.” Patty ordered. “Pupils are even, probably not concussion. Want to go to the hospital anyway?” Erin shook her head. “Ok. Me and Abby are gonna check we haven't left any equipment and see about billing. Yell if you feel dizzy or anything.”

Erin peeled off her wet jumpsuit and slid into the backseat of the car, grateful for Patty’s practical nature.  
“Are you ok?” she asked in a small voice. Holtzmann tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Her eyes were red.  
“Fine. Just…” she put her head in her hands. “You went down, and it reminded me of when you jumped into the portal, and… And. I'd never been so afraid in my life. It felt like it was happening again. I don't know.” Holtzman went quiet again. Her breathing was still ragged, but she was regaining her composure. Erin took her hand.  
“It's ok.” She said. And holding Holtz's hand, even though her neck hurt, even though she smelt of sewer water, she really believed everything would be ok.


	11. Chapter 11

With much cajoling, Abby agreed to let Erin supervise Holtzmann and Holtzmann supervise Erin. She stood nervously outside Erin's apartment while Patty idled the hearse.  
“You'll be safe?” she said to Erin. “And you'll call me if you get dizzy? Or if she has another…Uh..”  
“I think the word you're looking for is ‘meltdown’.” Holtzmann quips, flashing a strained grin. “I'm fine now. You could've let me drive. I'll keep an eye on Gilbert, get on with some blueprints…”  
“No work tonight, Holtzmann. Get some rest. Order in.” Abby turns to Erin. “You know this one has only seen two movies in her life? See if you can get her to sit still long enough to watch Dirty Dancing.”

Abby hugged them both one more time, staring searchingly at Jillian before reluctantly letting go. 

Erin stood in the doorway to her apartment and stripped down to her underwear. The sewer water that had spilled from the broken toilets had soaked through her coveralls when she'd been knocked down. Her jeans were tight and clammy around her knees, her hair felt damp. Holtzmann watched her wriggling out of her clinging vest.  
“You know…” she began flirtatiously. Erin shot her a look. Holtz smiled wanly. She looked pale. “Just pretend I said something sexy.” Holtz sat down to unwind the complex set of laces that held on her boots.  
“I'm going to have a shower.” Erin said gently. “I'll make some tea after. You rest.”  
“I'm sorry about earlier. I really am.”  
“You don't have anything to be sorry about. I'm just worried about you. We all are.”  
“I put you in danger because I freaked out about something that happened months ago.”  
“We all got out ok.” Erin couldn't bring herself to mention that she'd gotten kicked because she was more worried about Holtz’s safety than her own. 

The hot shower helped with Erin's throbbing head and aching neck. She identified where she'd been kicked by the tender lump behind her ear, but the skin wasn't broken, and it didn't seem serious. 

Wrapped in a towel, she made her way into her bedroom. Holtzmann was sitting on the bed, flicking through one of the scientific journals that had been on the nightstand, wearing Erin's favourite soft Weird Science t-shirt, a pair of banana print boxers and the big, fluffy socks Erin's mother had bought her for Christmas that she'd never worn.  
“I made you some tea.” Holtz said, not looking up. There was a mug steaming on the nightstand.  
“Thanks.” Erin dressed shyly, keeping her back to the engineer, as if Holtzmann's warm mouth had not brought her to ecstasy only this morning.

“Would it have been as bad if it were one of the others who got hurt?” Erin asked cautiously, settling on the bed.  
“...No, Gilbert, it would not have been as bad.” Erin couldn't decide if that was the better answer or not.

Abby called to check on them while Holtzmann took a shower.  
“It's ok, Abby, it's… I think it was a PTSD thing. From when the world nearly ended.” Abby sighed.  
“That makes sense I guess. Do you think there's anything we can do?”  
“Probably not. Maybe she shouldn't be in the field.”  
“Probably not.” Abby sighed in agreement. “But I don't think we can stop her. How's your head doing?”

The afternoon went slowly, the atmosphere a little tense. Holtz had prowled around the apartment like a caged tiger. She had made Erin fresh mugs of chamomile tea every hour, whether she'd finished the last one or not. She sat on every piece of furniture Erin owned, occasionally upside-down. She tightened all the screws on all of Erin's furniture, adjusted the hinges in Erin's windows and had been casting furtive glances at Erin's oven until Erin had taken a stand.

“Do you want to go to the lab? It's been nearly thirty-six hours since you exploded anything.”  
“That you know of.” Holtz answered with a wink.  
“What?!” Erin looked around in concern.  
“Kidding, kidding. You should be resting, and I should be keeping an eye on you.”  
“I can rest at the firehouse if you need to tinker.” The idea obviously appealed.  
“You don't mind?” Holtz asked, unsure.  
“I really, really don't want you to improve my oven.”


	12. Chapter 12

Holtzmann calmed within minutes of entering the firehouse. She moved around her lab, flipping switches and turning dials, writing down readings on a clipboard. The last button she pushed brought the stereo to life, filling the room with a deep bass beat.

“No red Solo Cup this time?” Erin joked.  
“I have the sound system perfectly calibrated for dance parties.” And dance they did. Holtzmann pranced across the room to plug her soldering iron in, then shimmied to the shelves to get some solder. Erin wordlessly handed her the leather gauntlet that Holtz always ‘forgot’ to use and found herself pulled into Holtzmann's dancing, the engineer gyrating closely behind her. Erin couldn't help herself, she smiled and turned around, throwing one arm around Holtz's neck and the other in the air, her feet moving in time with the music, her hips rocking, her lips inches from Holtzmann's smiling mouth. A laugh was bubbling out of her throat, pure joy spilling into sound.  
“I love you.” 

It was almost involuntary.

The moment she said it, Erin knew it was absolutely true and an absolutely terrible time to say it. It was too soon. It was an emotional day. It was all wrong.

“I love you too.” beamed back Holtz. “Now stand back, because I WILL be getting the blowtorches out.”


End file.
